


Inevitability

by tigersilver



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gunter POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14343579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersilver/pseuds/tigersilver
Summary: Everyone ‘in the know’ expected that Yuuri would end it as time went on.





	Inevitability

It was rather unthinkable – purely an accident, completely a farce. Everyone ‘in the know’ expected that Yuuri would end it as time went on. Or rather, a certain few were excessively concerned about that ‘inevitability’, especially after Yuuri’s meeting with King Saralegui, and even after the unfortunate end of that  _affaire_. They had dithered over Fluerin early on in the story and even over poor proud Elizabeth (though she was a no-show, really) in the very beginning. Some cognizant souls felt quite unsettled concerning the possibility of a Japanese girlfriend and others were on their capable guard against any and all females that might possibly attract what Wolfram sneeringly referred to as ‘the Wimp’s unfortunate wandering eye’.

 

The general populace, of course, had a different version of the inevitable. They were quite satisfied with the current and continued  _status quo_  of the acknowledged pairing of  _gorgeous_  princely fire-wielder and boyishly adorable,  _effective_  young Maou. They already admired ex-Prince Wolfram von Bielefeld; felt he was more than Royal and snobbish enough to make up for Yuuri Heika’s occasional plebian lapse when it came to manners and customs and the way things were done.  The Engagement gave the People a certain sense of safety – of pride and security, just as the Marriage would, when it finally occurred. That it  _would_  occur was not the question, at least not for the Maou’s subjects.

 

For that matter, most of the Aristocrats agreed with the People, even Stoffel, as time went on and Yuuri made no move to dispense with his accidental fiancé.  That particular Mazoku breathed a sigh of relief at the fortuitous engagement and was quite satisfied to have gained some advantage in being linked to this amazingly odd and damnably impressive Maou.

 

It was only Conrad, Gwendal and Gunter who actually worried. Well, Cheri, Gisela and Anissina sometimes suffered doubts now and then. But really, the first three were the ones who felt charged with watching over and nurturing the relationship between the Maou and his fiery espoused. Naturally, they worried.

 

Sara truly terrified them, especially Conrad, who had some inkling of exactly how passionately his Majesty  had reacted to the intriguing fair-haired ruler. It took repeated doses of Yosak’s matter-of-fact faith in Yuuri’s romantic honor to prevent Wolfram’s ‘Little Older Brother’ from rushing in and perhaps doing irreparable harm.

 

Gwendal kept his fears to himself, though he watched Wolfram like a hawk, looking for tearstains or signs of neglect. Gunter dithered, as was his wont, and fretted that Yuuri’s expected abandonment of his accidental engagement would do great harm to the growing peace of Shin Makoku. It would reflect badly on his beloved Heika to disregard his long-standing promise to Lord von Bielefeld and, of course, it would be a pity to have the loafer in tears and flinging fireballs. If it had to happen, he’d rather the Maou had done it sooner than later, for letting this drag on could only worsen the impact.

 

No one dared to actually ask Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld, Fiancé-in-question, exactly what he thought the odds might be, not even the three cheeky Maids, who ran the Castle – and the unofficial back-stairs betting ring. It was quite clear to them the ex-Prince believed the engagement would never last, even as he fought such an eventuality tooth-and-claw, with jealous sorties and a guerilla-warfare brand of affection (that served to terrify the young Maou more than mollify him.) One only had to hear Wolfram’s constant cries of “Cheater! Cheater!” or watch his face carefully after Heika once again neglected to sanctify his official status before visiting strangers and one knew most assuredly that Lord von Bielefeld, in truth, had no real faith in the endurance of his Betrothal.

 

As for Yuuri, again no one asked. It would be rude, as Gunter pointed out, even if one were the half-brother of Wolfram von Bielefeld. Heika, who could be oddly stubborn, probably wouldn’t want his privacy invaded.  He was quite resistant to the questioning of his motives or his intentions, though he himself did ask the occasional telling (and horribly embarassing!) question. However, as Weller took the opportunity to point out repeatedly, hadn’t his Majesty allowed the Engagement to stand uncontested far past the allotted time for everyone to accept it – and its dissolution – as an amusing joke? Obviously Yuuri had no wish to damage young Wolf’s feelings; more specifically, Conrad privately mused, the Maou had had absolutely no time to deal with the Engagement one way or another, what with deflecting wars and locating magical objects, kidnappings, fatherhood and sudden returns to his homeland.

 

Thus it dragged on, the Engagement, far longer than anyone ever expected. The delay allowed certain persons to sort out their feelings about it – concerning passion, loyalty and the exigencies of love – political, noble and unrequited. Conrad, for one, came to realize that his younger brother had matured greatly over the space of a few short years – as had Yuuri, who no longer needed his hand held for every little thing. Gwendal became accustomed to the fact that Wolfram – and consequently Heika – relied on him less and less as time passed. Gunter grasped unhappily the undeniable fact that selfish Little Lord Brat could hold his own when paired in harness to his wondrously wise Majesty: scoldings from responsible elders were increasingly unnecessary although neither boy had actually ventured out of their extreme youthfulness.  All in all, the Betrothal was considered a good thing for both young persons, even if its short half-life was doomed.

 

As the Engagement continued to just ‘happen’, just as it started, various truths came to light over time. Wolfram, for one, gradually discovered that ‘love’ was a many-splendored, multi-guised thing. It stretched within him as he struggled to understand his fiancé; it grew as his heart gained size by degrees. This growth was apparent to observers in the softening of his habitual annoyance and impatience, in the warm welling of devotion and loyalty that came to color his voice and his actions. It lessened the sting of his accustomed and usual sniping and made it only more pronounced to those concerned that the outspoken blonde soldier clearly supported his fiancé and King in all things. Indeed, the telling fact that Wolfram was still around to call Yuuri his well-deserved moniker of ‘Wimp!” four years after the ‘accident’ meant that he was still just as committed when far lesser Mazoku fiancés would’ve given up the fight and turned tail, discouraged.  Even the irritating and terrifying presence of King Saralegui didn’t faze a staunch von Bielefeld Fiancé, though his canny older brothers bit their respective nails to the quick anticipating the worst. Wolfram loved Yuuri - till he died and into the Great Hereafter - and it mattered not if Yuuri might be temporarily attracted to another. It was excruciatingly painful, yes, but not as painful as actual separation would be.

 

In all this time, as new obstacles arose and new tests, Yuuri was steadfast in his own way: he did nothing to end the Engagement, though, of course, often he did little to encourage it. Conrad sometimes believed Yuuri regarded it as a necessary accessory to his Maou-dom, like his crown or the sash he wore so uncomfortably when required. Perhaps instead it was a leftover childish dependency, a need to have someone to rely on, similar to the admitted weakness and need his Majesty had for his godfather when he first arrived. Gwendal believed Heika’s motives were somewhat purer – the boy needed Wolfram because he needed a trusted companion, one close in age and understanding, one who could both mentor and ‘pal’.  Wolfram, due in part to his official position, inevitably evolved into Heika’s dear friend, his confidante, his best buddy. Gunter-the-Trusted-Advisor rued this outcome a tad – there were far more suitable young demon lords if Heika required such around him – but at least von Bielefeld was both magically powerful and intrinsically loyal.

 

Equally of course, as time flowed forward down its inevitable path, Yuuri and his accidental fiancé understandably became closer and closer, achieving a deathless friendship and eventually, a considerably clearer comprehension of each other’s wants and needs and desires.  An intimacy developed between them unlike any either boy had ever known: comforting, empowering, bone-deep, soulful. They palled around willingly on off-days, choosing each other’s company even if not required, for Yuuri’s days of fleeing and hiding had been long laid to rest.  Too, they found themselves in unexpected agreement on topics large and small, their views merging and blending where before Yuuri would pull one way and Wolfram another, always at odds. As life meandered on and they grew more accustomed to each other’s viewpoints, they came to present a united front on everything from favorite mealtime choices to Greta-raising. Most unexpectedly, at least for Conrad, an older, more savvy Yuuri was no longer heard railing daily against marrying someone of his own gender – and Wolfram was no longer daily expecting the absolute worst.  Wolf would now instantly leap to his fiancé’s defense if there was any question of unfaithfulness – something that actually happened fairly often in a kingdom ruled by a young, virile,  _still unmarried_  king - and Yuuri was absolutely vehement in his support and admiration of ‘Wolfram the person’, even if he still avoided openly acknowledging the official role the blonde hothead had in his life.

 

Gunter was positive his Majesty was actually secretly glad to have a fiancé, as the loafer was quite capable when it came to handling Shin Makoku’s local matters of state, even bowing to Yuuri’s altruistic wishes when it came to politics outside their rapidly solidifying borders without argument. Von Bielefeld, at least in Gunter’s opinion, had matured enough to actually help Heika constructively. He was rapidly becoming invaluable to Shin Makoku’s welfare…and perhaps even to Yuuri Heika’s personal comfort level, as the Maou was always uneasy and inattentive when dear Cheri-sama’s youngest wasn’t in evidence. 

 

Gwendal agreed and went one better: he believed his Majesty might even harbor warmer feelings for his cute baby brother, though of course he knew Heika would never act upon them. The boy, for all his talk of ‘no boundaries’, was actually very traditional, or at least, constrained by the lingering morés of his Earth-culture.  Lord von Walde resolved repeatedly to be available to his poor little brother when the Maou finally got around to ending it, to provide whatever small solace he could.

 

But, as mentioned, time has this habit of moving on, marching faithfully forward, accumulating experience, spiced with small affections, storing up memories of people, places and things, tastes and textures and odors, till one is doused in a constant rich flow of one’s shared past with others. For Wolfram and Yuuri this simple passage of time built a sturdy edifice, constructed from scraps of conversation, tiny acts of selflessness, shared events and mutual acquaintances.

 

Seconds, minutes, days and months ticking and trickling inevitably by, a muted thunder in one’s ears, a gentle hush round one’s shoulders. Years passed in solid order, observed by the drama of life-shattering decisions and consequences…and then the healing and strengthening of bonds that naturally followed. Finally, in the world Yuuri ruled and the wider spaces beyond Shin Makoku’s boundaries there came a time when all the miscreants and dastardly bounders, all mysterious magical objects and overly zealous conspirators were dealt with on a more than temporary basis. When that gratuitous moment arrived, every man Jack of the Maou’s nearest and dearest returned home to Shin Makoku with the certain and comforting knowledge that the overseas plots and long-standing curses were foiled or disarmed – they were done with their endless traveling, finished for the foreseeable future with spreading Yuuri’s peculiar brand of peace, free to go home at last – and successfully.

 

It was a rather nice Celebration and really, the journey itself hadn’t taken all that long – only four years from start to finish and Yuuri was still only a disarmingly innocent nineteen to Greta’s womanly fourteen. Let it be noted, however, that the Maou was more than capable of pulling off the ‘parent act’ when Greta started dating. Papa Wolfram agreed wholeheartedly, and swore no Mazoku or Human would touch their precious daughter until he and Yuuri were satisfied as to their excellence.  One could note as well that the two of them had always been relatively ‘in tune’ about the right way to care for their daughter. Perhaps that was the first thing they had in common, though by no means the last.

 

Of course, Yuuri looked exactly the same at nineteen as he had at sixteen and Wolfram looked pretty much exactly as he’d looked at 82, when Yuuri first met him. The only visible differences were in the vastly more mature expressions they wore sometimes and in their casually affectionate attitudes when it came to each other. It was undeniably obvious to anyone who bothered to watch that the Maou and his Fiancé were now completely at ease in each other’s company, far more so than they’d been when Yuuri had first arrived in Shin Makoku. But this attitude seemed only natural to their combined families and courtiers, for all of these interested people had been there while the unlikely Relationship grew and flourished -  very close by, in fact, and each and every one of them far too much involved in the details of the Relationship to notice the Larger Picture developing all around them.

 

Perhaps that’s why it came as such a surprise. That enduring bond between the Maou and his hot-blooded fiancé was really the only tip-off the three major worriers had and also the only actual clue to mull over when Heika casually called a meeting of his informal council. Smiling, he asked that the official Marriage finally be gotten underway, balls and all, with all that pomp and circumstance he knew Wolf-chan would require. Yuuri hemmed and hawed as he requested this unbelievable, impossible Wedding, acting just as usual, as though nothing shocking had just issued from his butter-wouldn’t-melt mouth.  

 

He didn’t care about the details, Heika confided to them charmingly, though Mama and Cheri-sama would probably have something to say about them, too – that stuff was up his Fiancé – oh, and ah, he  _had_   promised Greta she’d be the Flower Girl, if someone could make sure that was taken into account? Wolf-chan would be wearing black, just as he would of course, and they were both going to wear trousers, thank-you-very-much and please-don’t-argue.  He and Wolf-chan had discussed this Marriage thingie at length and found that the other details weren’t all that important to them – the only outcome they absolutely required was to be legally Together at last.

 

 Actually, Yuuri mumbled with a diffident blush near the end of the session, they really felt that they were married already but for the sake of Shin Makoku they’d be willing to go through all the stupid gyrations of a public Ceremony.  Well, um, his Wolf-chan was the more enthusiastic one but Yuuri was more than happy to please his fiancé.

 

The Maou left behind him three pale and joyful faces. Wolfram would’ve grinned somewhat impudently at them but he had more important things to think about: Yuuri’s quiet assumption that they would finally get hitched immediately, with no further delay, and seal with festivities and confetti the bond he freely admitted had been there all along. There were also Yuuri’s passionate kisses, assured and confident, eliciting exactly the response the Maou now expected from his loving fiancé and then of course, Wolfram couldn’t forget his lover’s smooth and ardent body, the weight of which Wolfram had grown used to, being by him and beside him in cave and open-air and their big bed in Blood Pledge Castle through all these joyous years.

 

Yuuri’s heart, too, long ago given, carefully treasured, kept in exchange for his own.

 

For in truth, the Maou had long since gotten over the ‘but, he’s a guy!’ shtick. He’d shed his leftover baggage about marrying a boy early on, in the midst of chasing down villains and conquering evil, all with the invaluable help of his pretty penis-endowed fiancé.  Somewhere in the middle, he’d stop fantasizing about Wolf-chan being ‘feminine’ and foolishly wishing for the impossible and finally realized he was far more grateful for the demonstrated fact that his fierce fiancé was most definitely not in any way _female_. He’d come to appreciate the ripening inner beauty that he realized was only barely reflected on Wolf’s shiny surface. He’d learned to relish all the passion Wolf-chan showed him daily, through thick and thin, good times and bad, in tents and on long marches, through hail and sleet and dust and miasma, in the face of attacking strangers and spells that went ‘Boom!’

 

As to when their relationship had moved to the physical – oh, perhaps it was after King Saralegui’s betrayal or maybe even later, after the Crows had been dealt with - they couldn’t say, could they? It was private, immensely private, and Wolfram and Yuuri wouldn’t share confidences with anyone on the details of that subject. Suffice to say, Yuuri had experienced some sort of revelation along the way (or perhaps he realized he was _always_  experiencing revelations when it came to his fiancé) and Wolfram had helped him sort it out to both their satisfactions.  To be totally truthful, and despite the immense odds laid against them by specifically unnamed betting persons, Wolfram von Bielefeld had long been long certain his carefully guarded heart was all-important to his bashful fiancé; that Yuuri needed him as well as wanted him and loved him above all.  Yuuri, had he chosen to divulge such a mushy, embarassing confidence willingly to  _anybody_ , would’ve happily admitted that this was true.

 

And desire? Wasn’t that inevitable when two passionate young males were constantly thrown together – in bedroll and cavern and inn – as they had been all those years? Really, it was never in question. Had the Maou not demonstrated that clearly that by now – silently steadfast and grudgingly true and honestly unswerving in his commitment?

 

Enough said.

 

Yuuri and Wolfram were married not more than a month after he made his request to his new brothers-in-law and his trusted advisor and the Kingdom of Shin Makoku cheered raucously at the inevitable rapid Announcement and the equally inevitable rushed Marriage that followed close on its heels. They’d known it all along anyway, hadn’t they?  _Right_.

 

Satisfied, the Kingdom settled in to place bets on the gender of the Royal Couple’s second child, including details of hair color, eye color, specific _maryko_  ability and time and date of delivery to the exact minute. 

 

(Incidentally, their Majesties’ month-long honeymoon at a certain island vacation Mecca was paid for by the return on the bets they’d both laid – and the interest compounded daily over the course of four years.)

.


End file.
